


you'd already started to disappear

by firstaudrina



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaudrina/pseuds/firstaudrina
Summary: Jace suffers; Maia pretends not to care.





	you'd already started to disappear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girljustdied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/gifts).



> Prompt was: _you took off your shoes, said anything further would be bad news, 'cause you'd already started to disappear._ First posted over on Tumblr at [firstaudrina](http://firstaudrina.tumblr.com/).

By now, Jace knows when they’re coming. At first it had been harder to tell, especially since he’d been so trained to push past mild discomforts. But it’s happened enough that he began to recognize the signs: first the room gets too crisp and bright, like he’d activated his vision rune without meaning to. He did that sometimes now. But next was the wave of nausea, and that was when he knew for sure that he had to get the hell out of wherever he was. Soon after that he’d be on his knees, nerves shredded with pain that had no source, just a black hole opening somewhere inside him.

“What’s up with you?”

Maia speaks in that way she has that hard and disinterested but somehow expectant, like he better answer honestly or else. “You’re off lately.”

They’re combing the streets for the demons that had emerged from a newly-opened rift, Shadowhunters and Downworlders paired off in a half-assed team-building exercise. Jace didn’t expect to find any demons. It would be a miracle if no one ended the night tearing their “partner” to pieces. 

Jace’s own voice is bland when he replies, “Gee, I didn’t know you cared.”

His jaw is already clenching, because he can feel it. His vision is sharp enough to be disorienting. 

“Casually noticing and actively caring are not the same thing,” she says. Then there’s a spike of surprise. “Hey, are you —”

Even though he knew it was coming, Jace still does not expect the sudden roiling of his stomach. He stumbles, already, too early, too fast. “Fine,” he cuts her off, jaw tight. “You should take the night off. Find Simon, or something. I can finish the route myself. It’s —”

Again his feet forget themselves and Jace finds himself grabbing for whatever is nearest to stay steady, which in this case is Maia’s wrist. Her brow furrows and she grabs for his other arm, but she does not appear impressed. “Jace. What the fuck.”

“I’m sick,” he tries. “I’ll go back to the Institute.”

Maia watches him critically. “My place is closer.”

Jace disengages, letting his back slouch against the nearest storefront heavily, glass window chilly even though his jacket. He raises an eyebrow. (Against his will, he shakes.)

Maia rolls her eyes, shakes her head. “God forbid you keel over while we’re on patrol. Your grandmother will probably put me in a more permanent glass box.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Can you walk?”

“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,” he tells her, but he’s not sure that he can until he does.

Her place is close, only one block up and one block over. The stairs prove to be a problem but she hooks an arm under his and hauls him along with more strength than he has without a rune to boost it. He takes in glimpses — gray walls, cracked floors — before she’s unlocking her door and depositing him on a teal velvet armchair, the kind that’s more cool than comfortable. Jace is bent so far his forehead’s on his knees, his knuckles white as he shudders through a spasm. When it ends he unfolds, slumps back into the chair and breathes like he’d been punched in the stomach. The break is a relief, but he knows it’s not over yet.

Maia is staring at him but Jace avoids her eyes, feeling caught and stupid for not having evaded it better.

“I’ll be fine in a little bit,” he says. It never lasts longer than fifteen minutes, twenty.

Maia looks at him, lips this side of pursed, and then she says, “Okay. Water?”

Jace is surprised she doesn’t ask him anything else. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”


End file.
